Blue Bird
by Jeice Lover
Summary: Every day, in his pit of darkness and despair, that one little ray of hope kept his spirit from dying. That little blue bird. The memories have brightened and haunted him for years. But, memory can be so subjective. Was the little bird really the bird he remembered? Or has the past played tricks on him to keep his last bit of sanity from breaking.


Everything was on a set schedule. Finny knew it by heart, as it would go on hour after hour, day after day, week following week, each year creeping slowly after its' predecessor. He stared blankly at the small window cut into his cell wall. He could see light, though it didn't shine in. Nor did it tilt away and leave him in semi-darkness. It was shining straight down, so he could see it but not feel its' warmth in the cool, dryness of his cell. It had to be around that time. He couldn't help but smile. He loved this time of day. It was the only thing he had to look forward to.

Sure enough, he heard a noise, metal scraping slightly against concrete. A line of artificial light shone in from under the door. He crawled over to it and lay down, looking out. Some of the light was blocked out as a pair of eyes from the other side of the door met his own.

"Hey there." A small whisper, a soft and pleasing sound, met his ears. "Are you feeling alright? The noise yesterday sounded awful." Finny's eyelids drooped, covering his eyes halfway as he looked at the ground. His arm still hurt from how they injected him with so many needles. The skin around was still purple with bruises and broken blood vessels, his blood would leak out from the puncture wounds if he so much as lightly scratched the surface. They had cleaned them well enough, they wouldn't be infected, but they still hurt. The eyes on the other side of the food-slot gained a light of worry. "Do you want me to bring you anything? I'm not even supposed to be talking to you, but I could bring you a cookie or some candy. Sweet things always make me feel better."

"No, I'm fine. Thank you. Besides, I don't want you to get in trouble just for me." The eyes closed in a happy way, and he could almost see the pretty face smiling.

"I wouldn't get in trouble, don't worry. Daddy wouldn't let them hurt me." The person's head moved quickly, then came back down. "I'm sorry, I have to go now, Mommy is calling me. But here," there was a rustling noise and something was pushed through the slot in the door. "You can have this for your room, to make it look pretty. I picked it just for you. Well, bye bye, see you tomorrow." The slot closed and he heard faint footsteps patter away until he couldn't hear them anymore, no matter how much he strained his ears. Finny picked up the object and went closer to the window, where he could see it in the light.

He almost gasped aloud. His world had no color, everything was bland: white, black, or gray, with the exception of the hair and eyes of the people who caused him and his friends so much pain. He had never seen the back of his own neck, so he had never seen the bright blue numbers and letters that were branded into his skin. Now, in his hands, here was the most colorful thing he had ever seen in his life. It was a small flower, very common and plain to most. But to him, it was the most beautiful thing in the world. The stem and the small leaf that was attached to it were a soft green, one that would have blended well with the grass it had originally grown in. The center, where the bees would have buzzed over it, looking for nectar and pollen, was as yellow as the sun that it had gained life from. The petals, though, were the most beautiful of all. The petals were soft and blue, smooth to the touch and the same color as the daytime sky.

He only saw glances of the sky occasionally, but that was the closest thing he could relate it to. He hadn't seen much in his short, short life. Wait, no, there was something closer to this color. What had he seen that was as beautiful as this flower? Yes, that was it. It was the eyes, those two bright, beautiful blue eyes that gave him a light in the darkness to follow, the ones that kept him from going completely numb and surrendering himself to pity and despair until he faded into nothingness. This blue wasn't just a color. For him, this was visible hope.

He almost felt like he shouldn't have been allowed to touch it, it was so beautiful. He felt fearful all of a sudden, and he cupped it in his hands and held it to his chest. They were going to take it away. They were going to take this most precious thing away from him, just like they had done to everything else he held so dearly. He had no place to hide it, though, no place to keep this most beautiful, wonderful gift from the kind stranger he loved so much. So, best as he could, he hid it in the darkest corner he could find, and he could only hope that they didn't find it. He looked out the window and, watching the light of the outside world, he slept.

–

Finny woke up with a start, and an instinctive fear overtook him. He saw the silhouettes of the scientists in the doorway, and panic seized him. He backed up against the wall, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.

"Come now, it's that time again." He scooted against the wall as he always did, though he knew how futile it all was. They got him in a matter of seconds, and they began taking him to his most feared place. He was strapped to a table, held there with belts and heavy clasps. He cried out and struggled, thrashing violently to try and avoid the pain he knew would surely come. A thick, muscly hand grabbed his arm and held it down, exposing the bruised and punctured flesh of his inner arm. He felt needles being inserted there, tears ran down his face and dripped to the surface of the table.

What had he done to deserve this? Why was he here? What could he do to make all of this awful pain stop? These questions ran through his head over and over, like a broken record. They were what he focused on, as his panic-ridden brain tried without success to answer them. It seemed like forever, though it must have only been about a half an hour. He felt the belt-straps being undone, his body freed. He didn't even think, he just acted. He thrashed out his arms. Then he ran.

He only got as far as the outside of the doorway before an iron grip closed around his thin wrist and pulled him back in. He screamed and cried, he even tried to bite the hands that held him. He kicked and squirmed to no avail, not knowing what he was doing, actions fueled by sheer panic.

"Daddy?" He opened his eyes when he felt the man holding him freeze. He stopped moving, wondering what could have made the man stop. His chest heaved with labored breaths as he looked out the door. His eyes met that color blue that he saw every day, that he looked forward to seeing so much.

A young girl, possibly his own age, was standing there, a blue flower in hand. Her hair was straight and black, falling down to about mid-back. Two blue ribbons tied together held her hair out of her face, framing the pale, almost white, skin and blue eyes. She wore only a simple blue dress that fell to her knees. She wore no shoes, so Finny could see her thin, knobbly legs and feet, they looked so easily breakable.

"Sweetie?" The man holding him spoke at last, seeming shocked that she was there, seeing him holding this small boy the age of his own daughter who was dressed in nothing but thin shorts held together by mere threads, his bony chest was bare and exposed to the elements. She first seemed surprised, then frowned at the man.

"Daddy! What are you doing to him?! You're hurting him!" She walked up to them and took Finny's hand. He could feel the surprising warmth from her thin, pale hand. "He's my friend, daddy, I've been talking to him. He's nice, so why are you hurting him?" She stomped her foot on the ground, now holding Finny's hand in both of her own. "Let him go, Daddy! Let him go right now!" She tried pulling on his emaciated wrist in an attempt to pull it out of her father's arms.

"Sweetheart, be reasonable." The man held firm onto Finny, now feeling drained and wanting nothing more than to sleep, as he always did after the panic from his routine injections gave him. "Daddy is doing this to make things better for you, for everyone. It's worth one life to help so many others." However, the little girl in blue refused to see reason.

"But why? Would you do this to me, daddy? If it meant doing whatever this is?" The man seemed horrified by the thought, it showed on his face. Finny had never thought that the scientists that experimented on him had emotions. Now, though, seeing this man trying to talk to his angry young daughter, he saw the beginnings of emotion. It didn't mean he hated the scientists any less, but he saw a bit more light into who these people were.

"No, sweetie, I would never to this to you."

"Then why are you doing this to him?!" She pulled even harder, Finny felt as if his wrist would get dislocated. "You're hurting my friend for no reason! I hate you daddy!" The scientist's eyes widened in shock, his hand went rigid, then released Finny's hand and limply fell to his side. The girl didn't even look at her father, she was too busy hugging Finny close to her. He could feel her warmth more than ever, it seeped into his skin and seemed to touch his very core, sending shivers down his spine. He could feel his own arms wrapping around her, and he pulled her closer. He greedily soaked in her warmth, burying his face in her shoulder and inhaling her scent, as sweet as the flower she had bought him.

"Alright, enough of this," he heard one of the scientists say. He felt a hand grab his arm, squeezing the place where he had just been injected with so many needles, and he cried out from the pain. He was being pulled both ways, one way by the scientist, the other by the girl. "Hughes," the scientist said harshly, "get your brat under control. This is a lab, not a day-care center." Another scientist came forward, holding a sharp instrument that looked like a long pair of scissors.. Finny saw it and he stiffened with fear, eyes widening like a frightened doe.

"Come here you little brat," he growled menacingly. He made a grab at the girl and pulled her back, away from Finny. She cried out and struggled, thrashing like a fish in his hands.

"No! Let go of me! Let go!" She flailed her arms wildly, kicking at his legs as well. Finny tried to go help her, but another scientist grabbed him and lifted him into the air.

"Oh no you don't." She continued to thrash and struggle against the scientist, forcing him to grab her with both arms.

"Hold still, brat!" He yelled.

"No! Let me go! Let me go to my friend right now or I'll-!" She froze suddenly, her sentence cutting off with a quiet gacking sound. A stunned expression was written across her face. She slowly looked down at her chest, one hand grasping for it. In his attempts to hold her still, the scientist's hand had slipped, and the scissors had been driven into her chest, a scarlet rose beginning to bloom over the blue of her dress. Finny felt himself freeze, the scientist holding him dropped him out of pure shock. The scientist that had accidentally stabbed her pulled his hands away when he realized what he had done, a horrified expression on his face.

Slowly, as if she couldn't believe what had happened, the girl looked down at her own chest where the scissors protruded from her flesh. With a shaky hand, she took hold of them and pulled them from her chest, then only stared at the instrument stained in her own blood. Finny, finally feeling a bit of control over his own body, somehow made his feet move towards his friend. He put an arm around her just as she began to fall limp against him. He could feel her weight against him, he let himself fall to his knees as she lay against his chest like a big doll. He didn't even care that he could feel the blood from her wound dripping against the skin of his chest.

It was like time had slowed to a stop, no one seemed to move. He looked down, and a pair of blue eyes looked up into his own. From below, a thin hand reached up, trembling. He took her hand, and looked at her eyes.

"My friend," she whispered breathily. Her words were thin and could be easily broken, like her, laying there in his arms. Her weakening heart beating against him as her shaky breaths shook her body. "My best friend..." As he watched, those hope colored eyes glazed over and became glassy, and the hand he held became limp and still in his grip. Against his chest, he could feel the beating of her little heart beat once. Twice. Thrice. And then no more. No more movement came from the delicate, broken body he held against him. The red-stained blue beauty that had given him hope.

His shoulders slumped down, he could almost hear the click as his mind shut down and the slurp as the last bit of hope and light was sucked away from him. He clutched the body of the girl whose name he didn't even know as if she was his whole life and soul. The ghost of her last chirping laugh echoed through his head as he was dragged through the halls and tossed back into his cell. He lay there on the floor, dirty and caked with the blood that the scientists hadn't even bothered to clean him of. He lay there, half curled up, not even hearing or seeing anything that happened for a long time.

When he finally managed to open his eyes, he looked to the corner of the room, something in his mind telling him to search for something, anything he could cling on to. When he saw what was there, he shuddered, then fell backwards into that same state, one that he would not awaken from for years.

The flower, that last present he had received from the one most precious to him, had withered up.

It was dead.

–

He stayed that way for years and years, the scientists resorted to injecting him with nutrients and IV's along with his injections of drugs. He couldn't even eat anymore. He was reduced to the state of a doll.

_A lifeless doll, a red rose blooming on its' chest_.

No longer could he look forward to that last big of light, the one that would look in at him through that little view-point.

_Light extinguished, hope destroyed._

He was dead. His heart was still beating, but his soul, the things that made his heart run, were all dead.

_Dead. Dead. Dead._

He lay there in his room, day after day, only taken out when the scientists gave him injections or when an experiment was being 'disposed of'. He would only lay there, eyes glazy and half open, seeing all but with all thought and emotion extinguished.

_Eyes open, empty, never to sparkle with life again._

It was there, in his cell, that his 'life' was lived out. Curled in a dirty corner, lifeless. His empty eyes turned by chance to that window, the one he saw the sun out of. But that was empty light. Not the light of hope and warmth. It was false brightness. That's all it was. At least, that was all it was, until the shadow appeared on the sill.

When the sound of a single chirp brought his eyes back into focus.

–

Finny smiled, holding up the weed that he had just pulled from the ground. He laughed aloud, having finished his chore for the day. He stood up slowly, stretching his arms over his head as he basked in the warm light that streamed down from the sky above.

"Finny! Come on, it's lunchtime!" Finny grinned even wider when Mey-Rin called to him for the midday meal.

"Coming!" he called happily. He started off at a jog for the house, still soaking in the light. He paused when he heard a bird chirping in the trees somewhere. He relished the memory, remembering dearly that little bird that had kept his hope alive even in his most hopeless hour.

However, another memory jumped in for a split second. The memory of, instead of a pair of majestic little wings and a sky-blue coating of feathers; he saw a pair of bright blue eyes and a chirp-like little laugh that would melt the heart of even the coldest man.

Finny paused, confused by this sudden intrusion of memory. Where had that come from? There was no girl that he could remember... Was there? How did he know it was a girl? It was strange, but... it seemed like such a real memory, so could it have just been imagination?

"Finny?! Are you coming or do we have to eat without you!?" Finny shook his head and ran for the house, that lingering memory of that laugh warming him with the light of the free, outside sun.


End file.
